


The First Time He Died

by CrisisCiyren



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Attempted suicude, Character Death, Fake AH Crew, Fluff and Angst, GTA AU, Graphic Description, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Immortality, M/M, Multi, Suicide Attempt, Temporary Character Death, very little fluff if im being honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6382969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrisisCiyren/pseuds/CrisisCiyren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a few little blurbs about the times the Immortal Fake AH Crew found out they were immortal.</p>
<p>very angsty, see tags for triggers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time He Died

The first time he died, it took him six months to wake up. When he did, it was dark and the soft fabric of the suit they buried him in was too constricting, it was too dark, he was too afraid. 

It took him an hour to figure out what happened to him after he removed the tie from around his neck and tore open the buttons on his suit jacket and dress shirt. He spent the next three days trying to claw himself out, ripping off several nails in the process and the stench of blood filled the small space. 

He was overwhelmed and starving, he passed out and woke up fourteen hours later. 

Continuing to claw at the coffin with brute force, a small trickle of dirt began to fall onto his bare chest. This was all worth it, he was going to see them again after who knows how long. He dug for three days, clawing and scraping at the wooden coffin, swallowing mouthfuls of dirt; and when he revealed the precious, precious sunlight, he couldn't help but scream. Tears ran down his cheeks, stained with dirt and blood from his hands and he released a hiccuping laugh before pulling himself out of his own grave. Somehow, he stumbled home on shaking legs that hadn't been used in so goddamn long. He fell at the others disbelieving feet and sobbed. He was finally home, he was finally home!

 

\-----

The first time he died was in front of a warehouse, in the middle of a heist. His mic was cut off with a surprised yell and Michael saw him drop dead with a heavy thud. He woke up a month later, screaming, telling the others to get out of there, there were too many officers, just get the hell out of there and don't you dare look back.

Before his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a door opened and three sets of hands were on his shoulders. Calling out his name in watery voices, telling him to calm down, that they loved him, that they missed him and "don't ever do that again, you asshole."

He was crying and laughing in short, breathless puffs and when he was finally calm again, he stood and rubbed at his eyes. And he was happy to be home, happy to be alive, he could feel his heart beating and he could move. They were a family again, they were whole again.

 

\-----

The first time he died, he was backed up into a corner, begging for his life and outnumbered and "please put the gun away" even though he never wanted to have to beg for something ever again. 

When he woke up, he was under water and he nearly suffocated again. And if it hadn't been for the stupidity of his killers to dump him in shallow water and without weighing him down he would've. His first sight was blurry sunlight and the water that rushed into his lungs served as his first breath. He spent five minutes on his hands and knees, coughing, hair falling into his face before an innocent man found him and offered clean clothes and a ride to the hospital. 

He declined, and limped away, shedding his soaking shirt. It took him five days, ten hours, six minutes, and forty-two seconds for him to find which safe house they were hiding in and with more nervousness than the night he was killed, he knocked on the door. 

Inside, everything went dead silent and Geoff nominated himself to answer. He was greeted with the barrels of a shotgun pressed to his chest but they soon fell and instead their leader pressed himself against his chest, shaking, and in tears of shock and happiness.

 

\-----

The first time he died was by his own hand, the barrel of his gun pressed against the roof of his mouth, his tongue moving against the cold metal. His hands were shaking and he knew this was cowardly but there was nothing left, there was nothing left. 

He pulled the trigger and his brain matter and blood splattered against the wall that protected people from falling off of the roof. Ray was the first to hear the shot, first one to make it up to the roof, the last one to let go of his limp body. 

He woke up three months later, in his room, in his bed, with a killer headache. And as he inhaled his first breath, he couldn't smell the thick, sweet stench of blood. Instead of it was the smell of Geoff's whiskey. 

Too relieved to do anything else, he falls asleep again and when he wakes up, his crew is smiling down at him with teary eyes and a big plate of breakfast. He's embarrassed and doesn't look them in the eyes, barely talks to them for weeks but after a while of gentle prodding and reassurance that "no, this doesn't make you weak", and "no, this doesn't mean we love you any less", and "we want to help you get better", things do indeed get better.

\-----

The first time he died, it was in a homemade explosion. He knew immediately that he had done something wrong but he also knew that it was too late. 

In a split second, there was a light and a ringing in his ears and a blinding pain in his right arm as it detached from his body at the shoulder. The same pain ripped through his abdomen and left leg but he was dead before it could actually register with him. 

It took the others three days and nine hours to find the abandoned barn he was working in and when they saw his mutilated body, Gavin vomited down the side of the building. Ryan was tasked with picking up his pieces from all of the rubble and crudely stitching him back together.

When he woke up a week later, he was shirtless in bed and the lingering stench of C4 and the ringing in his ears clouding his thoughts. He stumbled towards the bathroom on legs that barely worked and stared at himself for what could have been hours. Gavin was the first to find him, gently reaching his hand out and placing it on the center of his chest where an explosion of white scars started. He crumbled into Gavin's thin frame as he traced the scar of a gash on his abdomen and the sloppy stitching Ryan used to put him back together.

\-----

The first time he died, he died in a blaze of glory. They're running from the cops after a heist. He's climbing into the back of the helicopter when a bullet enters his back and he feels it, he feels it and then he's gone. He's gone and Jack is sobbing, shaking his shoulders, and yelling at Gavin to "hurry the hell up and get home, dammit."

By the time they reach home, Jack is covered in his blood and they know there's nothing they can do so they leave him in his room. 

A month passes before they know, the smell when they walk inside after coming out of hiding is the first sign. They gently edge the door open and the smell becomes worse immediately. 

He's not - He wasn't like them. The funeral was held two days later, all in their best suits and tear stained cheeks and they leave a dozen roses on his grave every week. The first time he died, he didn't come back.

\-----

The first time he died was six months later, he was undercover and he knew it was dangerous to go alone, Geoff had told him so. Being staged as a dealer and going into another crew's territory was dangerous. The deal was busted by the cops and as he went to run, he was shot in the left calf and the right shoulder. 

They left him there to die, too preoccupied with others to remember that he was alive, and bleeding, and "oh god he was going to die. Geoff was right, he was so right", and he lay there, face down for hours before he heard someone walking. 

Calling out weakly - I don't want to die, not like this - the steps find their way closer to him and in two seconds, there's the barrel of a gun on the back of his skull and a bullet in his brain. 

His body is dragged and dumped 20 miles outside of Los Santos, in what appears to be a shallow, makeshift grave and ten bodies are buried out there, including his. 

He wakes up three weeks later to the smell of death and decaying flesh and he vomits on himself as he crawls out of the grave. His hands tearing through bodies like soft clay. On his hands and knees, he begins to crawl. Before he knows it he's standing then walking and then running until he makes it home.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any inaccuracies I may have in any of the medical type things.
> 
> Also, comment below if you can guess what the order of the P.O.Vs are, since I was pretty vague about it.
> 
> comment and kudos are much appreciated, thank you so much for reading,
> 
> xoxo  
> Crisis


End file.
